The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Heart

But what would happen once the covers started to peel back? That was a question she couldn’t answer. And wasn’t sure she wanted answered.

CHAPTER THREE

“I DON’T suppose you’ve solved it already?” Amanda asked hopefully. “You know, one swipe of a trusty test swab and you have your answer.” She plopped down on her bed, flat on her back, and looked across at Jack, who was busy reading, also trying hard to ignore her. “You know, Jack, the kids I work with back in Texas don’t respond to me half the time for any number of reasons. They’re slow processing the question, not sure what an appropriate response is. A lot of the time they’re distracted, or they simply don’t know that answering when someone asks them a question is the right thing to do. So when I don’t get a response from them, I understand because my children, for the most part, are autistic, and I teach them how to respond. But you don’t need to be taught.”

He turned his head to look at her, not even bothering to push up the reading glasses that had slid halfway down his nose. “Your point being?”

“We’re roommates. Roommates talk to each other.”

“I don’t have roommates, and if I did, we wouldn’t have anything in common to discuss.”

“Oh, I think you would, and a great place to start would be why you always set yourself apart from everybody else. People think you’ve got a terrible personality, that you’re unfriendly or grumpy. I heard that about you all the time back in Texas, from my own receptionist, from hospital staff. But do you know what I think?”

“Could I stop you from telling me if I didn’t want to know?”

“Just ask. I’ll respect your wishes.” True to form, he did what she expected. Ignored her for about thirty seconds. Then he finally pushed his glasses back up, specifically so he could look over the tops of them at her.

“Then don’t tell.” He cracked a half smile. “Or do. Whichever makes you happy.”

She laughed. “So that’s how you want to be?” He was like a breath of fresh air. No rules, no concern for what others thought of him. Basically, a man on his own terms, and she liked that.

“No, that’s how I am. I learned a long time ago it’s easier to let people just do what they want to do. It makes them happy, which makes my life a whole lot less complicated when it involves me. Besides, human nature … When someone asks you if you want to know what they think, they’re going to find a way to tell you.”

“Better watch out, Jack. You could be giving me insight into who you are, which means that if I do tell you what I think, I might be saying something you don’t want to hear.”

“Yeah, right. Like I haven’t heard it all before?”

“Not from my perspective, you haven’t.”

“Human nature again. While you think your perspective of me may be unique, it isn’t.”

“But you won’t know that until I tell you what I think.”

“Which leaves the ball in your court. Tell me, or don’t tell me. Either way … ” He held up his journal. “Reading. Seven articles to catch up on. All of them on the HAIs du jour. You know. What’s trendy, what’s new, what’s coming back into style.”

She studied him for a moment, and saw something that surprised her. Devilment, maybe? Was he actually playing with her? “You don’t ever just make the best of it, do you?”

“The best of what?”

“Your situation. The people you’re with. You know, occupy your moment. This is Argentina, Jack. Argentina! It’s Friday night, barely dark. We’re in the holiday season now, and the people in the village are starting their celebrations. Making the best of your situation would be going down to the village, joining in or at least observing from one of the outside tables at a cantina. Talking to people, letting people talk to you. You know, having fun.”

“You think reading medical journals isn’t fun?”

“I think you’re hiding behind a bunch of journals because you know you will have fun if you step out.”

“Then you’re challenging me.”

“Not so much challenging you as …”

“Purposely distracting me.”

“No. I’m telling you what I think.”

“See, I was right. You wanted me to know, so you sneaked it in there when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, you were paying attention. I doubt there’s ever a time in your life when you don’t.”

He was definitely one tough nut to crack. Still, she wasn’t giving up on him, and it had nothing to do with professional camaraderie. She just plain wanted to see Jack unwind. Wanted to see what he’d be like when his mind wasn’t on such weighty things.

Okay, she was attracted on some weird level. She’d admit it. Back in Texas, the first time she’d met him, that attraction had crept up on her, but there had been nothing she could do about it as he’d been a family member of one of her patients. Yet here, in Argentina, they were doctor to doctor, and that attraction level was turning into something more than she’d expected.

“Oh, and fun is what you want it to be, Jack. If spending a dull evening reading journals is your type of fun, my brother’s got boxes of them when you get done with these. But if you want to go meet the people here, mingle a little, see what makes them who they are, then fun is where I’m going, and you’re invited along—to participate, or simply observe.” Okay, maybe she was trying to distract him a little. Nothing serious, and not for long, though.

“Except I’m on call.”

“So am I, but we’re not going that far. And we’ve got adequate staff on to take care of anything routine that arises.” She rolled over on her right side to face him, and propped her head up with her hand. “At a leisurely stroll we can be back here in ten minutes. Running, in less than two. Any more excuses?”

“Give me a minute to think, okay?”

“Said as the man is sitting up and putting his glasses on the table next to the bed. Which means you’re coming to the village with me. Right?”

“Or getting ready to explore your brother’s boxes of journals.”

“Ah, yes. The way Argentinian Friday nights are meant to be spent.”

“Are you goading me, by any chance?”

“Not goading. Just … ” She paused, thought for a moment, wrinkled her nose when she couldn’t come up with an answer.

“See, I was right, wasn’t I? You are trying to distract me.”

“Or show you something beneficial.”

“Beneficial? How so?”

“A night off clears your head, lets you relax …”

“Oh, so we’re weighing more medical knowledge against a night of bright lights and music? Now I understand.” He gazed across at her for a minute—a solid gaze that gave away no aspect of himself whatsoever—then shut his journal. “I had this relationship once, back in medical school. Fine-looking woman. One of my professors, actually. At the end of her day she was done. She could go home, kick off her shoes, read a book, cook a meal, do whatever she wanted to do.”

“Which was you, I’m guessing.”

He arched a suggestive eyebrow at her. “The only problem with that was at the end of my day I had to work a part-time job to keep myself in medical school. When I wasn’t delivering pizzas, I was studying. When I wasn’t studying, I was sleeping. So I got maybe two hours with her, which gave her cause to think that we could have our benefits